The writing on the wall.

I've been a little depressed about having to hand back my wonderful secret service hearing aides on Tuesday. I felt like yelling out "Damn it Chloe!" in my best Jack Bauer voice about 20 times a day, but then everyone would have looked at me like I was crazier than usual.

Okay, so that's no excuse for not blogging, but its all I've got!

Last night Alaina went into the hallway just before bath time and was quietly playing by herself. I just assumed that she was taunting one of the cats, when I heard Jeff say, "OH ALAINA!" in his best 'I'm disappointed in you' voice.

I hustled over to see what the problem was and I just about hyperventilated as I tried to contain my laughter. Alaina was sitting in the middle of the hallway with markers all over the floor and had been drawing on the wall.

ON THE WALL! Jeff was just hitting his stride of "I spent a lot of time painting these walls and making sure they looked nice" and "I'm going to have to paint . ." when I walked over with a wet wash cloth and wiped the wall clean.

Then I turned to Alaina, who was putting on her best "I'm going to cry because I got caught" performance, and cut her Oscar-worthy tears short with a simple, "Alaina, we don't color on walls, that's what your beautiful coloring books are for. Go into the bathroom and we'll start your bath" Then I ran upstairs to laugh until I cried because my daughter did something as cliche as draw on the walls.

Of course, I had to get a few laughs at my husband's clueless-ness about the wonders of washable markers. I tried to take a picture of the marks, but Alaina hadn't gotten far enough for them to show up on a picture. Darn.

Say What?

I went to the hearing specialist Monday and had my hearing tested. It turns out that I have a significant hearing deficiency in the middle frequencies. The specialist explained that this type of hearing loss isn't because of damage, but is usually hereditary and present from birth. So my questions is . . .

How long have I been yelling at people when I talk????

Seriously, I'm all of 28 years old, need a hearing aide, and the specialists said I've probably had this since birth, but that it must have recently gotten worse, hence the visit how instead of before. Tuesday (yesterday) they provided me with some trial case hearing aides and I can't believe the difference! Its not like I couldn't hear at all, but what I can hear with them is soooo much better!

I'm saddened by the thought that I should have sucked it up and went to a specialist earlier that this, because my boss and my husband both notice a difference in the volume of my regular speaking voice.

Now the FUN part of hearing aides . . .

Any one want to guess how much they cost? I told Jeff they were 'Hella Expensive' and he guessed $500. I told him he wasn't taking the 'Hella' into account. These bad boys are $3000 a piece. And insurance only covers 10%. If I sign up for my own hearing insurance through my office, they will pay $500 each for the 1st year, $750 the second year, or $1000 each if I stay on the insurance for three years.

So I have a 3 year plan to improve my hearing . . .but until then, you'll just have to deal with me speaking a little louder and asking you to repeat yourself every now and again. But at least I know there is an end in sight.

In the meantime, I may cry a little when I turn these bad boys in. I feel like a secret service agent.

p.s. for all the tech lovers out there, I can buy a wireless remote for these and connect them to my cell phone or MP3 player and route the sound directly into them . . .no earbuds or blue tooth required!

p.s.s Welcome to the blogging community Mimi!!!

'Laina's first Life Lessons

Jeff likes to spring things on me while I'm trying to feed Kayla, Alaina, myself and him all our own meals as soon as I get home.

I understand that he's excited about something from work and anxious to share his joys/fears/pains etc with me, but I don't have much pity for him when he's frustrated that I don't stand still and listen to him.

But yesterday he was being the most adorable proud Daddy.

I'm not sure what started it, but he started with the typical, "I have something to show you" phrase that leads to him pulling out a stack of papers to look over while I'm trying to prep baby food, start our dinner, juggle a fussy baby, and convince Alaina that she is hungry now instead of 5 minutes before bedtime. Usually its something about positions that have opened up at his job, something about money, or something about anything else he's interested in.

But yesterday it was flyers for lessons at the YMCA. Jeff has decided that it's time to get Alaina started on something physical and worthwhile. I was all but drooling over the tumbling classes while I think that Jeff was imagining Alaina being adorable at her first dance performance. Either way we were pretty excited about the concept of chanelling her energy.

But instead of signing her up for dance or gymnastics, we called and signed her up for swimming lessons. There is some logic involved. I don't know how she will react to being in the water, but I do know that just because she asks her daddy to let her lay on her tummy in the tub and pretend to swim doesn't equal the required comfort level to be alone in the pool without a parent. The only parent/child classes are for children under the age of 3, so with her birthday being in May, I called last night and signed her up and since Jeff refuses to have her grabbing his chest hair while she floats in the water, I've been delegated to be the parent in that combo.

And then the reality of what I had done just hit me.

Did I just sign myself up to wear a bathing suit with witnesses around me for six weeks?????

Crap.

Thanks FedEx guys!

I decided on a whim to come in the front door the other day because I left the garage remote in the truck and was too lazy to use the key to unlock it to get the remote. I'm spoiled by my van's automatic locks.

And sitting on the porch was this box . . .



I was a little giddy at the thought of flowers for me . . but I knew that Jeff wouldn't have gotten me any flowers, because I asked him not to since I'd rather have gifts that don't die in a week.

Upon closer inspection, the name on the box wasn't mine. I called the flower company, they accidentally hung up on me TWICE during my good Samaritan phone call. I called the number listed under the ship too address and left a message for the woman who was supposed to receive them. Called the flower company again and informed them of their error. They told me the would resend more flowers to the rightful owner, but meanwhile I could enjoy the ones that came to me.
Alaina and I immediately opened the box and found . . .

Yay for the bear . . .because the roses were frozen. Apparently the box had been sitting on my porch for 2 nights. Oops. I guess I'll have to check my porch everyday now to see if I get more flowers.

The next day the rightful owner called and asked if she could pick them up. The flower company said they had sent them three times and she still hadn't gotten any flowers. I told her that I would love to give her her flowers, except that they were dead. I told her I called the company and they were sending more. Plus I didn't want to take the bear from my daughter who already loved it to bits.

And before you think that I lied . . .check out the rose on the right that is falling off the stem already. Darn me for not getting to them before they were frozen.

So big question of the day:

Do I call the flower company to complain about the fact that the delivery person left a box of fresh flowers on my porch in the middle of winter, when they were guaranteed to be frozen? Or do I keep my mouth shut because I didn't order them anyway? They have a policy that they leave flowers in a 'safe place if no one is there to receive them.' Is out in the freezing cold a safe place for flowers? Its kind of like leaving a steak in your pet's food dish for safe keeping isn't it?

Forget the Weatherman, asked the Weathered Man

So apparently last week there was a magnificent Sun Dog around the sun at sunset.

But since I live in the middle of the city . . .I didn't get to see it. Rats.

Last night my dad told me that seeing a sun dog means that there will be an abrupt change in the weather. A.K.A. our little 'heat wave' we are experiencing today of 30+ degrees.

I've decided that I'm not going to listed to the weather man anymore . . .I'm just going to buy myself a Farmer's Almanac. Did you know the old saying that 90 days after a fog there will be bad weather? I didn't, but My dad made the announcement in church one foggy Sunday that they would have no church on Christmas because it was foggy out. I really wish he wouldn't have been right about the weather on that particular item.

I'll trust a farmer who can lose his money over not watching the weather over the meteorologist that makes money to take guesses any day of the week.

And a thought for the day . . .
When you park beside a vehicle that is really, really close to the line in the parking stall beside you . . .do you adjust your vehicle around their position? Or do you park as straight as you can ni your stall and take a quick inventory of any dings on your car and memorize their make and model for the possible police report that could follow?

Crowns, Latkes, and Socks

It has been an interesting last 24 hours.

Jeff called yesterday to say that Alaina's friend Fee (nickname) was coming over for a playdate while her parent's went to see Sherlock Holmes. If I was one of those people who is into labels, Fee would be Alaina's 'best friend.' But since I'm not into labels and they are only three years old, Fee is just a good friend.

They played games . . . .

Tried on the princess hat that Alaina made last week . . . .

And pretty much just had tons of fun. I got tired of chasing them around - which I had to do because having two three-year-olds in the house means that someone is going to get hurt. (Thank goodness it was my child who beaned herself on the table.) To get them to sit down, I bribed them with chocolate chip muffins, and devised a craft.

Cut the center out of a paper plate and glue things to it and TADA! You have a crown!

What are those little squares, you ask? They are my obsession. When a fashion designer draws the design for a dress, they attach the little 'swatch' of fabric so that the person looking at it can get an idea of the flow, color, and style of the cloth. While taking costuming classes in college, we had access to dozens of boxes of fabric scraps which the teacher encouraged us to use for swatches. And because I'm a bit crazy, I took a garbage bag full of them home.

And I have FINALLY found a use for them! Cut them up into tiny squares and they can be used to decorate any kids craft known to man! Anyone want some swatches for their very own? I'd love to share!

Alaina FINALLY got to go out and play in the snow since the temp was above frickin freezing (a very technical term) and she took her work horse formerly known as daddy with her. Fun was had by all, especially me who got to watch from inside the house.

After Alaina fell asleep for her much deserved afternoon nap, I ran some errands around town. If I had thought about it, I would have stayed home because everyone else with cabin fever was out running errands today. But I got them done and had some fun along the way. While buying half priced calendars at the big-evil-corporate-book-store I found this book that I had to buy.

"The Latke who couldn't stop screaming." First I loved the title, then I loved the snarky talking pine tree on page 33. I suppose this is supposed to be a fun story about Hanukkah - but I find it to be a bitter tale of religious intolerance. Basically, the snobby pancake is made fun of by ignorant Christmas decorations because they don't understand that there can be another holiday at the same time as Christmas, and the foolish pine tree tries to tell the snobby pancake that some holidays have been blended together, but the Latke won't listen. In the end the snobby Latke get his respect, but the author speaks of the stress of always being misunderstood and how everyone should be welcome somewhere.

I liked the overall message, and the tree talking about pagan rituals made me giggle.

And the parting thought for today. Why the heck do they make socks that supposedly fit show sizes 4-10? Are we seriously supposed to believe that a person with a teeny-tiny foot can wear the same sock comfortably as a person with size tens?

AllI know is that I wear size 8-9 shoes and this is how those stupid socks fit. Look at how high that stupid heel is up the back of my foot!!! Are people with size 4 feet supposed to fold them in half? And before you ask, no they aren't stretched out or have bad elastic, this is how they fit out of the bag. I stupidly thought that they would shrink in the wash.

Oh, and don't you love Alaina's face in the pic of her wearing her crown? That's what I got when I asked her to smile . . .and yes, that is my awesome blue-chinese-peacock wallpaper behind her.

Confession

When I haven't blogged in a while, I feel like I'm going to confession.

As in, having to admit everything that's happened for an unreasonably long time while only one person listens.

So enjoy this update whomever you may be.

Christmas was a wonderful experience being snowed in at my parents house. I know that from now on at every family Christmas there will be two things that are never forgotten.

Red Wine and Hard Liquor.

We all got along remarkably well and when things started to get a little edgy, they'd lay down for a nap. There were enough adults to watch all the little ones successfully with little incident . . .

Even though my niece almost drank a handful of toilet water on my watch.

ALMOST! I SAID ALMOST! I had her take a bath with her cousin instead so that they could suck the icky bath water out of their washcloths instead, well that's what my baby does anyway. . .

To top things off, we went to stay with the in-laws the next weekend, after I checked to make sure there wasn't a chance of getting snowed in away from home again. However, apparently a 20% chance of snow has become a sure thing in Nebraska, because there was a light snow the entire time we were there. And I KNOW they don't have enough supplies to get my family through a snow in.

Well I've run out of cohesive thoughts due to the nasty weather so I'll sum up:
- WiiFit is the devil, but I can beat everyone except my Dad at Wii golf.

- Baby K is going to be my calm child, she's started going to sleep without fussing.

- My in-laws are beginning to understand parenting again, and probably why they only had one child.

- Our Christmas tree is still up, because the lights help warm up our frigid living room.

- I've finally found the right volume on the baby monitor that I don't hear every squeak, but will wake up when her cries begin to sound distressed.

- There may have to be some heavy bribes involved if we have discussion on a third child before baby K is 5.

I'll leave you with a question to ponder that came to me as I listened to a story told by a friend at our bowl game party.

Is it just a little bit sad to admit that you try to whip kitties/spin donuts in snowy parking lots when you are over the age of 30? Or has it progressed to full blown pathetic?